Metalmorph
by RedLionKing
Summary: The story of Zeke Baxter, the boy who became Metalmorph. This is an original superhero story that I hope to one day publish as a comic book, so please comment, rate, and be honest.


Chapter 1

Zeke sat in his tan '86 Buick LeSabre. His fingers danced anxiously in his lap as the afternoon sky displayed a dingy blue with white puffy splotches. No music played, no engine revved, just a few mumbling words and dim lights flickering. Why was Zeke always looking for some excuse to show off? Why did he need an excuse? Why did this all cause him to sit in a Buick listening to a police radio? As a voice appeared from the brown box, his blue eyes darted towards it. He was hoping for something, anything... but it just ended up being some pointless conversation about patrol routes. He channeled it out and waited for the next topic to come up. "Sure, sure." some gruff voice said through the fuzzy frequency.

His sky blue eyes closed as he thought. How many times had he heard that in his lifetime? A cheezy black-and-white reel ran in his head, like he was some kind of movie or comic book character. A young boy lay in front of a television, dressed in what would be a red and white, striped t-shirt and blue jeans if the vision had Technicolor. The little 12-year-old was watching his favorite cartoon, Superman. He watched wide-eyed as the strong man flew across the screen to save the world. "Wow." he announced in his prepubescent voice. Quickly, he was at his mother's side, interrupting her work for what had to be the six-millionth time in his 12 year life. At least, that's what his mom thought. "Hey." he said once. "Hey." Once more. "Hey mom."

The woman's eyes darted angrily towards the 12 year old as she grumbled out. "What is it Zeke?" Her dainty, female hand gripped into a fist tightly to contain her anger, before returning to her typing.

His bright blue eyes looked up at her, ignoring her anger. "Mom... am I a superhero?" His voice sounded just as childish as his question. The flashback discontinued with Zeke letting out, "Sure, sure." It was the same response his mother gave him. Blond hair followed by a thud hit the leather headrest as a sigh escaped Zeke's lips. Suddenly, the silence of the car was broken by sirens in the background and an alert cop yelling about a bank robbery not even 5 miles from Zeke's location. Before another moment could've been wasted by sitting around, two bright headlights and a roaring engine came from the dark alley.

The tan vehicle pulled out and sped up quickly towards the bank in question. The car skidded to a left angle once Zeke saw the police blockade. Quickly, the car was shifted into park and Zeke dashed out. His white sneakers lead him to another alley, directly behind the bank. He pulled out the only costume he could afford with nothing more than $20 a week from his parents. "I need to get a day job." he said as he pulled the gray bandana over his mouth and coughed lightly. He pulled up his arm and eyed it for a moment. Blue eyes blinked in pain and a grunt of agony was released. Seven drops of blood hit the gravel ground and a reflection of light came from his arm.

A shining silver blade came from Zeke's forearm. Most men would have some variation of a heart attack if this happened to them, but Zeke just bled a bit. Zeke then found a back entrance to the bank and jiggled the handle. "Damn it... locked." he said, before letting out a depressed sigh and pressed his left index finger against the keyhole. After several seconds, his finger turned 90 degrees and back. Zeke sighed, closing his eyes as if in prayer as he pulled the handle once more. The door swung open and Zeke called out, "Sweet action I'm good!" Soon, a hand slapped tightly over his mouth. The hand was his own, reminding him there was a thug mere feet from the door. He removed his finger, and a drop of blood hit the ground, joining the other 7. The finger entered his mouth and Zeke sucked on it, as he always did when his finger bled.

The blood tasted like it always did, blood sugary with a hint of hemoglobin. Another badly inked vision came to Zeke's mind. The same young boy from the previous thought sat braced to table. A man with hair as blonde as the boy's stood over him, wearing a face-mask and sterilized gloves. Slowly, the man pulled out a small tube connected to a breathing apparatus. He placed it over the boy's face and as he drifted off the man said, "You won't feel a thing." As the vision darkened, Zeke eyed his bleeding forearm. He knew that most people only thought he was the same as everyone else, but Zeke knew that if an X-ray were taken of him, silver splotches would be shown everywhere.

Then, his mind wandered again, only this time a vision of waking up. A 17 year old boy awoke to a rather nerdy looking black man. "Go ahead Zeke, try it out." the man said to the still groggy teen. The boy lifted his arm slowly and closed his eyes in concentration. He squinted hard, obviously focusing his mind on something. Then, almost in one blinding moment, he screamed out in pain. "Gah!" he called out, as drops of blood hit the white-tiled floor. As his breathing calmed down and watery eyes dried, he lifted his arm. It was red and sore, but that wasn't his focus. As drops of blood ran from a large scar along his right forearm, so did a metal blade. He smiled and watched it slowly recede back where it came from. As the vision faded, the boy smiled at the middle-aged gentleman and smiled widely.

Slowly, Zeke walked down the dimly lit hallway and found the silhouette of a rather large man. Zeke, being the arrogant sarcastic man he was simply tapped on the man's shoulder like he was about to ask for directions. The large, obviously ignorant man turned around towards him and couldn't even let out his grunt before Zeke punched his square in the jaw. "Ow...." he said, assuming the man was going to be much softer. However, he collapsed just the same and Zeke hid him in the same hallway he just left. He peered out and saw only one other man to be taken care of. The man wasn't nearly as large as the other man. "Must be the brains of this operation... so he's probably an idiot." he said, before pointing his bladed forearm at the man's shoulder. Within 2 minutes, the man was yelling at the police about his hostages and how if one person fired he would shoot them all. Unfortunately for this man, Zeke was too confident in his aim and his shot wasn't as loud either.

Before he could even finish his speech, the blade fired and pinned the man's sleeve to a wall. "Wow, this stuff is stronger than I thought." he said, watching the man pinned to the wall and struggling to move. The thug's right sleeve was caught in a way that made his gun only able to point to the roof, while the blade was in so deep he couldn't detach his shirt in enough time to save himself. Zeke saw the police moving in and quickly removed himself from the scene of his anti-crime. As Zeke returned to his car, he began to pull out his bandages and covered up his bleeding appendages. Once he was all repaired, he pulled out and began driving home. Before he could get halfway there, a loud thump came to the top of his car roof. He braked faster than his car was supposed to handle and breathed heavily and nervously. The sun had finished setting at the very point he began to check and was freaked out by a mess of wild yellow hair and beady eyes of the same shade shaking and lagging its long tongue out all of which were encased inside a wooden head.


End file.
